


when i descend into hell, drag me back from the depths

by gohoubi



Series: splinters of broken glass [1]
Category: Snowpiercer (TV 2020)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Developing Relationship, F/F, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Psychological Torture, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gohoubi/pseuds/gohoubi
Summary: After an indeterminate amount of time imprisoned in Big Alice for sedition against Wilford, a broken Audrey is brought back to Snowpiercer. Melanie helps her pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Miss Audrey/Melanie Cavill
Series: splinters of broken glass [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966345
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Melanie

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like that for me, Audrey is slowly becoming less of an established character and more of a pseudo-OC. Seriously, the show needs to give us more scratch on her. She's such an interesting character and yet we get mere CRUMBS, I tell ya.
> 
> This whole fic is pretty visceral to be honest. **Trigger warning for violence, language, torture, blood, medical stuff. If that's not your thing, don't read this. Seriously, you have been warned.**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie finds Audrey in the medical car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: injuries, minor mention of sexual assault.

The medical car is in a state of utter chaos. The noise and smell is indescribable, a writhing mass of people squirming around the car doors. Some of them joyously happy and others in the pits of grief. All of them crowd around the doors, waiting with open apprehension at who will be brought back alive, and who will join the stacks of bodies in Disposal.

Mel’s former hospitality pedigree does not help here. She must shove her way through the crowd like anyone else. If only she was wearing the teal uniform, the crowd would part for her like ice beneath the train’s hull. _That wasn’t because of respect, Melanie, it was because they feared you. Be glad you’re not like that anymore._

What a sight she must be, in a dirty engineer’s uniform, hair coming out of her plait. When Mel gets to the doors, she sees there’s a cordon of guards, former Tailies who were given high ranks in Layton’s new government. Her heart sinks - there’s no way they’ll let her through. Even if they could, why would they? Why would they show compassion to the woman who oppressed them?

Mel dips back into the crowd, out of their view. Someone grabs her arm hard - she turns to whoever it is, ready to reprimand them. “Melanie,” they say, and Mel realises it’s someone she knows. Long brown hair, greenish eyes…

_Layton’s ex-wife. Zarah._

Zarah doesn’t even wait for Mel to acknowledge her. “I tried to get in, but they won’t let me. Only people with clearance…” She’s tearful and desperate, clinging to Mel’s arm. “Please, I’m so worried about her.”

Zarah must be desperate, to ask her of all people. Surely there are other Nightcar people here whom she would know. _But none of them have the clearance to potentially get in._

This woman makes Mel uncomfortable, no question. Guilt gnaws at her, for both the threats and the choice she forced Zarah to make. All of it unnecessary in the end, just to keep the secret of a man who had been alive after all. As awful as it sounds, Mel genuinely wishes she could never see her again. Zarah Ferami puts a personal face on Mel’s subjugation of the entire train, and that’s something she’d like to forget.

Mel can already imagine Audrey’s disappointment in her. _I thought you wanted to change? Changing isn’t easy, Melanie. You have to confront these parts of yourself, and move past them._ Well, she does want to change. Even if it’s painful.

“I will. I’ll try. Wait here.” Zarah lets her go, and Mel pushes her way through the last of the crowd to the guards.

They recognise her - of course they do. Layton assumedly told them to treat Mel civilly, but they can’t disguise their hatred towards her. She can’t blame them.

“No one beyond these doors,” the largest one says gruffly.

“I need to see someone,” Mel says, intentionally being vague.

“He said, no one beyond these doors,” another guard says, taking one step towards her. All the guards have caught on to who their surprise visitor is, and they all watch her warily. Will Mel order them about, like she used to? Will she try to pull rank on them? With the loss of the teal uniform also comes the loss of her power. Mel squashes down the impulse to threaten them, to force her way in. It would just end badly. _That part of you is gone. It cannot come back._

“Please. It’s Audrey, I’m worried about her. I need to get in, for - “ Mel turns back to Zarah, still at the forefront of the crowd. Mel was going to say _my friend_ , but that’s laughably inappropriate. “ - for her,” she concludes lamely.

The guard looks very unsure now. He’s trapped between an obviously distressed younger woman, and Mel. Regardless of what he does, he’ll be fielding a reprimand on both sides. Does he want to get it from Layton, or the doctors?

“Please. Just this one thing. Please let me through, I’m begging you.”

“Alright. If you must.” The guard cards the door open and Mel slips past him. The last thing she sees before the door closes behind her is Zarah’s terrified face.

If Mel thought the scene outside the car was chaos, the inside of the medical room blows that out of the water. People running back and forth, several injured prisoners, Pelton and Klimpt everywhere at once trying to keep everything under control. Mel stays against the wall, out of the way, waits for someone to notice her. After a few minutes, Pelton catches her eye. The doctor doesn’t even ask why she’s here, just leads her by the arm through the fray. Audrey has been stuffed into a cupboard of the medical car, shut away from others. Mel wants to believe it is her Nightcar privilege that earned that. The alternative is too frightening for her to think about.

Pelton summarily crushes that hope. “It’s not standard procedure to give someone their own space…but her injuries…they’re severe, yes? We can’t have that distressing the other patients. We’re barely keeping a lid on the situation as it is.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Yes, it’s that bad.” Pelton’s words are more clinical than her tone would suggest. Her face softens. “Go see her. Don’t…” she searches for the right words. “Try not to be too frightened by what you see. Just remember that she’s safe now. She’s not in danger anymore.” The normally-caustic Pelton acting reassuringly only heightens Mel’s unease. Someone yells Pelton’s name from across the car. “I’m needed elsewhere. Ask one of the nurses if you need anything. Audrey will know what to do.”

Mel pushes the door open, slowly. She could turn back now. It is unlikely that Audrey has seen her yet. But then what would that solve? She will have to see Audrey at some point anyway. Zarah’s tearful face swims up in her mind’s eye. _Do it for her! Maybe that can make up for all the shit you’ve put her through._

Audrey’s body comes into view from the feet up. Mel resists the urge to close her eyes. _It’s just Audrey. Her being injured doesn’t change anything._ Her normally pale skin is covered in bruises, in various stages of healing, some of them a sickly yellow, most of them dark and fresh. Clashing with the bruises are thick white gauze pads, stuck on her calf, her thigh, her stomach. Long stringy scabs festoon Audrey’s wrists, and Mel can imagine how she was tied up. An IV line connected to a bag with murky liquid in it. A pulse oximeter on one of her fingers, connected to a heart monitor. A large white gauze pad on her upper arm. Bandages around her ribs. White on red, white on yellow, white on purple. A crazed abstract artwork of torture and abuse.

Mel hopes to God that Audrey’s face has been at least marginally spared. Seeing her body is one thing, but she doesn’t think she could stand looking at Audrey’s face marred by bruises and gashes. _Just go! Just go look, get it over with._

Audrey is sleeping, somehow, the noise clearly not being a problem. She looks too small for the gurney she’s lying on, as if it will swallow her up. Audrey’s face is untouched, unwounded, normal looking. Mel releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. If all she saw was her face, Mel could be fooled into thinking Audrey was simply asleep. The monitor on the shelf beeps out a steady rhythm. The pulse oximeter softly glows on Audrey’s finger.

Mel closes the door behind her. Stands next to the gurney for a few seconds, at a loss for what to do. Audrey starts to stir, her eyes slowly opening.

“Melanie?” Audrey squints, as if she doesn’t really believe it’s her. “Melanie, is that really you?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Mel takes a seat on a chair next to the gurney. “It’s me, I’m right here.”

“Wilford- He told me he was going to- he told me he didn’t need the plans and - “ Audrey bursts into shaky tears, her heart rate shooting up. The heart monitor beeps in warning. “He said he was going to find you, and then he left - “

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m safe, alright? Everyone is safe, Audrey. Me, Layton, Zarah. Everyone. He didn’t hurt us.” Mel’s heart breaks thinking of all the threats Wilford probably made. Just for some stupid plans. “Wilford didn’t even make it past the barricade.”

Audrey seems to calm down a little at that. “He didn’t?”

“No. We caught him by surprise. He’s gone now. And all of his guards.” _I’ll never let anyone hurt you again._

Audrey shifts on the gurney, hissing with pain. Mel’s chest tightens with anxiety. She can see the bandages, but heaven knows what’s underneath them. “What’s wrong?”

“My ribs,” Audrey says, her voice strained. “Cracked one.”

“Wilford did that? All of - “ She flings an arm to encompass Audrey’s bruised body. “All of that?”

“There were guards too, but he told them to do it.” Audrey’s words come haltingly, as if it takes her a monumental effort just to say them. Mel’s anxiety burns away, replaced by pure incandescent rage. “Fucking hell, Audrey, if he ra - “

“No,” Audrey sobs, “no, he didn’t. He didn’t- he didn’t touch me, not like that.” Mel feels tears come to her eyes, from relief and sympathy both. “Wilford- he did other things. There were tasers, knives. The guards, they…Melanie, they did so much, I can’t…”

Mel shushes Audrey gently, pushes her lanky brown hair back from her face. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too much. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I…will you stay with me?”

Mel thinks of all the things she has to do, all the jobs back at the engine, her meeting with Layton. _None of it matters._

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all liked the first chapter. It's something new I'm trying out.


	2. Audrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey gets tortured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence, gore, language.

Time has become immaterial to Audrey. Instead of the sun’s movements, she takes time by the guards. The grey, cold cell, three metres by four, has no windows, no light except for the grimy bulb in the ceiling above. She was dragged here from the frontline, blindfolded half the way. Thrown none too gently inside and locked in. Audrey doesn’t know how long she’s been here. She gets fed too infrequently to take time by it. The guards come irregularly. Audrey had a watch, but it was taken from her. She even, in a fit of desperation, tried to count the seconds, but she always lost track after a while.

The cell door opens, and guards come in. Two of them, judging from the footsteps. Audrey’s heart starts pounding, and she can feel it in her side where the taser has been. The wounds stopped bleeding days ago, but they still pulse in tandem with her heartbeat.

One of them starts his spiel as they do every day. “Tell us, bitch, tell us where the plans are. If you do, we might take it easy on you this time around. Maybe even return you to your friends.”

Audrey knows this is a lie. Even if she gives up the information Wilford so desperately wants, the abuse will not stop. She knows Wilford would have no intention of honouring that trade: details of the plans for her safe return. Despite her broken, battered state, Audrey has seen too much of Big Alice: the guards’ rotation, their weapons, their prison, their security. Wilford is deranged, but not an idiot. He’ll get the plans, then the resistance will be overrun with him at the forefront of the offensive. When all of her friends are dead and the two trains are under his control, Wilford will return to enjoy his prey. Only this time, he’ll really make it hurt.

Audrey has her back to the room, lashed to a pipe. This is worse. She cannot get a good view of who is behind her. Audrey’s captors stalk back and forth, knives and tasers held at the ready. Despite this show of force, they aren’t allowed to hurt her too badly. Audrey has made it clear that she’s the only one with full knowledge of the plans, so incapacitation or death would be wasteful to Wilford. She remembers the interrogation when she let him know this.

“So you’re the only one who knows the plans in their entirety…correct?” Wilford sat in the metal chair across from her, his feet planted wide, a man who took up space freely. His huge furry coat gave him the look of some disheveled animal. Plastic manacles dug into her wrists and ankles, irritating the scabs already there.

“Yes,” she forced out, her throat so dry it hurt to speak. “There are thirty others. We split the plans up. Good luck trying to find them all.”

“So. You probably know how you could be of help to me.”

“I’m not going to help you with anything, you sick fuck - “ Wilford’s head twitched imperceptibly in Audrey’s direction; one of the guards slammed the butt of his knife into her side. Pain exploded in her abdomen and her vision went dark for a second. Audrey bit her lip so hard she tasted blood - she would not give Wilford the satisfaction of seeing her in distress. He waited until Audrey had regained her breath, then continued again.

“You’re a fighter, Audrey, I’ll give you that. I’m rather impressed. The others we captured told us everything almost immediately. A few rounds with the taser and you can’t shut them up, really.” Wilford leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “They all said the same thing, of course. That they only knew a tiny part of the larger plan. They all pointed to you, Audrey, as the ringleader. How does that make you feel?”

Audrey feels nothing. She knew that would happen. Even talked about it earlier, with everyone in the Nightcar. “You’ll all give me up, I know you will.” There had been several voices, indignant ones about to protest, but Layton had managed to quiet them down. “There will be pain, if you get captured,” Audrey went on. “Wilford will torture you to get information, that’s what he does. That’s why we only told you a little bit of everything. You can’t tell him what you don’t know. Wilford will figure that out quickly.”

Zarah’s voice had risen above them all, already cracking. “But if he finds out we don’t know anything, he’ll go after you.” Layton chose that time to interject. “Wilford’s expecting someone else other than Audrey to know about this. Someone lower down on the chain, someone anonymous. Let’s cross all those bridges when we come to them.”

Audrey had taken a breath. “That’s fine. That’s how it is. I’m prepared for that. If you have to give me up, do it.”

Clearly they’d all done that, and Wilford knew it already. After some more tasering, some more beatings, Wilford had declared the interrogation a bust. Left her alone there to recover. Or not, considering she was tied up. Audrey really regretted her promise to the others then. She couldn’t be angry at them, because they’d done what she’d told them to. Audrey wanted to cry, more than anything. From pain, from hunger, from hopelessness. Every part of her body hurt. Up till that point, she’d been attacked everywhere, her legs, her stomach, her arms. Everywhere except above the shoulders. “Can’t have the guards ruining your pretty face, can we?” Wilford had said. Even the memory of that had brought tears to her eyes. Audrey so wanted to let the tears fall. But she couldn’t, for the winking eye of the camera saw all, and Wilford was definitely back there watching.

The guards kept up their stalking routine as the memory died away. If she was lucky, occasionally Audrey would get some slightly wimpier guards. They’d go around her for a few minutes, posturing with their weapons, then leave. These ones look trigger-happy. They have knives and tasers, not guns, but Audrey can’t imagine what they could do to her with them. She supposes living on a grim supply train under Wilford would be a life lesson in cruelty. Audrey does not try to appeal to them. Very early on she learnt it didn’t work, and Wilford just took pleasure in her abasement. So she stays silent. _Take the pain, wait for them to leave._

One of the guards opens his knife, and Audrey sees that the blade is serrated. She can’t stop the whimper of fear or the way her whole body cringes away from him. The guard notices this, and smirks. He holds the knife to her upper arm, digs in enough for it to sting but not draw blood.

“You know, if you stopped fighting and just…gave us the plans, all of this would end,” says Knife-Guy, as if it hasn’t occurred to Audrey yet.

“Yeah. Don’t know why you’re still trying to hold out. None of your friends did,” the other guard concurs, with a taser this time. She feels - not sees - it jam into her side, aggravating the bruises there. The tiny metal prongs dig into the soft flesh. Audrey knows they can’t use both at the same time. The blade against her arm would conduct electricity and Knife-Guy would get it too. She can only hope.

“Just give them up, goddamn. Why are you still trying to protect those asses? It’s not like they tried to protect _you_ at all.”

Audrey sees it for what it is: emotional manipulation. She’s taught way too many clients about it to fall for such a lazy tactic like that. She stays silent.

“You think she’s retarded or something? She’s not saying anything,” Taser-Guy asks his compatriot. Audrey wishes she could shove his taser in his mouth. Oh, how she wishes.

“Well, she’s got all the plans, supposedly,” Knife-Guy replies, drawing out the last word. “She can’t be that stupid. Maybe she just needs some more encouragement.”

The taser withdraws. Audrey’s heart quickens; she’s getting the knife. Panic rises up, threatening to suffocate her. Knives have not been used on her in this way. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to cut human flesh,” Knife-Guy says casually. “I got this thing eight years ago, and I’ve only used it for animals. Wonder if it would be the same.”

 _Please, please, no. Don’t do it, please…_ Audrey shifts away from him, but Taser-Guy grabs her - she gasps in pain at his tight grip - and holds her in place.

“Well. Never a time like the present.” Knife-Guy presses down hard on the knife, drawing it back and forth. Audrey can’t help it, she cries out, which elicits smirks from both guards. The blade makes its progress, the skin slowly coming away. Blood running in long red rivulets down her arm and splashing on the floor. Pain licks up her arm, blooming like fire, and Audrey’s vision goes white at the edges.

Knife-Guy provides her an update. “I’m halfway through. I’m sure you know: plans equal end. I’ll stop, but only if you give me what I want.”

Audrey has never been hurt like this before. The pain is so great, so all-encompassing, that she so wants to end it. Oh, she can imagine it. Except the others. If she breaks, she dooms the train. And she can’t do that. Her silence is Knife-Guy’s answer. “Okay then,” he says, and goes right back to it. Still the knife saws, saws, saws at her arm, still the pain ravages.

* * *

Audrey must have blacked out at some point, because while her arm still hurts, it’s no longer acutely painful like before. It’s soaked in blood, however, and she is dizzy and light-headed. She hopes the guards are done. _Please leave. Oh please, I can’t take any more._ Without meaning to, she lets out a sob.

“Wow, this bitch is really tough.” Knife-Guy.

“You cut her up good though. We gotta leave. Let Wilford do his thing.” Audrey’s heart speeds up again, and her arm bleeds more. _Wilford? No, no, have mercy, please not him…not now. Leave me alone. Go away._

“We’ll be back,” Taser-Guy says to her. Audrey hears receding footsteps, then the cell door opening, closing. She slides down to a sitting position on the ground, resting her head in her uninjured arm. _Surely I can just close my eyes for a minute…_ just before she blacks out, she sees someone coming towards her. Audrey tries to stay conscious, but she can’t. She’s so tired, so weak, she can’t even keep her eyes open.

Before the darkness engulfs her, Audrey hopes whatever pain she wakes up to hurts less than this.


	3. Melanie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel's first night in the medical room with Audrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for medical stuff.

The medical room eventually quietens down as patients are stabilised. The flood of injured prisoners slows down to none at all. Mel refuses to leave Audrey’s side, even as the sun sets below the horizon and darkness sets in. “She’s stable,” Pelton says tiredly. “We’ll keep her safe. You don’t have to be here.”

“No. I’ll stay. I don’t care if I have to sleep on the floor.”

Pelton’s eyes narrow, as if wondering exactly _why_ Mel wants to stay so badly. She must decide it’s not worth the fight, because she doesn’t press the issue. The pulse oximeter beeps; Mel watches the saturation reading drop. 95, 94, 93, 92. Pelton orders Audrey to breathe deeply.

“No, don’t want to,” she sobs, head tossing on the pillow. “Hurts to breathe.” 91, 90, 89, 88.

“Do you not have any painkillers?” Mel asks.

“We do, but we’re trying to spread them equally. We can’t lose them all on one event, Melanie.” Pelton sighs. “As callous as it sounds, I can’t waste painkillers on this. They’ll work for today, but what will we do tomorrow? And every day after that? It will take a while for that rib to heal…I’m sorry, she’ll just have to get used to it.”

Mel is an engineer of a doomed train, and scarcity is something she understands. How many times has she seen things go extinct? Wood chips. Bees. Honey. The cows. Except this is larger, and more personal. Mel knows the logic behind this, and if this was anyone else, she probably wouldn’t care too much. Yet she sees Audrey’s face, makeup-free, tear-streaked and utterly terrified, and all logic flies out the window. _Why did I come here? I should have just stayed in the engine._

Audrey’s breaths come fast and shallow. “Please don’t make me,” she whispers.

Pelton goes back to addressing her. “You have to breathe. I know it hurts, I do. But if you develop a chest infection or something, you’ll be far worse off.”

Audrey does finally breathe deeply, biting her lip to keep from crying out. The oximeter ticks back up: 94, 95, 96, 97. Satisfied, Pelton pats Audrey on the shoulder and leaves.

Her head rolls into Mel’s hand. “Keep breathing, Audrey. You’re doing great.” Mel strokes Audrey’s cheek with her thumb, feels the dampness there.

“Mel…it hurts.”

“I know, I know.” _What do people say in these situations? What would help?_ Again, Mel’s inadequacy crushes her like a ton of bricks - unlike a cracked hull, she has no way to solve this. “Try to sleep. It’s getting late.”

Audrey’s hand shakily grasps at Mel’s. “Will you stay?” Mel’s heart twinges at Audrey’s weak attempt to keep her nearby.

“Of course I am. I’m not going anywhere.” Mel mildly regrets promising she would stay; she has an uncomfortable night ahead of her on this hard chair. But she promised.

* * *

Mel awakens slowly, her entire body stiff from the unnatural position she’s been sleeping in. It is very dark inside the storage room, and the medical car outside. The only light comes from orange emergency lights. Audrey is still sleeping. Mel stretches, yawns. Her hand hurts from where it’s been under Audrey’s head for three hours, but Mel doesn’t want to move. When she looks outside, she can just about see dark shapes of buildings against the night sky. Mel thinks she can see a flicker of light out there. When she looks back at it, the light has gone.

The medical car feels insular, cut off from the rest of the train. From an engineering perspective, this is certainly true. The whole car has dampeners in the walls to lessen the effects of the train’s movements. There are fuses in the subtrain which keep electricity going here even if the power has been cut off everywhere else. Climate control and technology only seen in First Class. But it is also being in this room. Here, Mel could pretend that there is no rest of the train. Here, Mel could pretend they are the only two people on the planet.

Mel wonders how Alexandra is doing in the engine, hanging out with Bennett and Javi. She had immediately bonded with them, helping out with repairs and sharing the night shift. Alexandra had wanted to come and see Audrey with her, but Mel made her stay behind. “There’s a blown fuse that Bennett needs help with,” Mel told her, as she left the engine.

Audrey whines in her sleep, thrashing on the gurney. _What kind of horrors is she seeing? Remembering?_ Lit by the orange lights, her sleeping face kaleidoscopes through terror, pain, desperation. Mel wonders how best to wake her up when Audrey screams, one short wordless noise. Already fighting, trying to defend herself, or escape. “No! Please, not them, not them, please don’t hurt - “

Mel grabs Audrey before she flings herself off the bed entirely. “Stop, stop, Audrey, it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s just a dream.”

In the orange light, Audrey’s eyes snap open, but they are still unseeing. “No, don’t hurt them, please, please don’t…” 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, it was just a dream. He can’t hurt them, alright? They’re okay.” Mel has not a clue who ‘they’ are. “You’re safe here.” Against all common sense, Mel gathers Audrey into her arms. “Listen to my voice, Audrey. It’s Melanie. You know who I am. You’re with me.”

“What’s going on?” Audrey lets out a sob against Mel’s chest. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the medical car. You’re not in Big Alice. You’re on Snowpiercer, with us. You’re safe.” Audrey’s hand squeezes Mel’s, as if reminding herself where she is. “You’re not on Big Alice anymore, Audrey.”

There is silence for a very long time. “How…how long was I there?” Audrey’s breath catches. “I couldn’t see outside, I couldn’t tell…”

Mel lets go of Audrey. Stares back into her terrified eyes. “A week. About seven days or so.”

“He’ll come back,” Audrey says suddenly, with deep conviction. “Wilford, he’ll- he’ll come after me, take me back to the cell - “

“Audrey, Audrey, listen.” Mel takes the other woman’s hand properly, feeling every scar. “Wilford’s thousands of miles behind us. He’s at the bottom of a canyon, him and all his guards. He’s gone.”

“Really?” Audrey’s voice; hopeful, but still disbelieving.

“Yes, there’s a chute in Disposal, remember? Waited until we were going over a bridge. He’s gone, Audrey, and he’s never coming back.”

“Never?”

“Never. I promise. Even if he did, I’d never let him get to you again. I’ll keep you safe, alright? I promise.”


	4. Audrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford makes his threats against Audrey a little more personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for threats of violence and medical stuff.

Audrey jerks awake, already fighting. She hits out blindly, trying to nail anything - her arm connects with something soft, and a curse word explodes from somewhere. “Fuck,” comes the disembodied voice. “Stop fighting, I’m not going to hurt you.” Whoever it is grabs Audrey’s arms, forces them down roughly to the surface she’s lying on. As her vision slowly clears, a squirrelly, bespectacled man comes into view. “I’m trying to help, as unbelievable as that sounds. Alright? Breathe. For now, nobody will hurt you.”

The ‘for now’ does not escape Audrey’s notice. “Where...where am I?”

The mysterious man lifts her head up slightly so she can see her surroundings. She is no longer in the cell, but in an austere medical room. No windows again. Apart from the table Audrey is on, the only other furniture is a chair, and a cart with medical instruments on top. The train goes over a bump in the track, which makes all the instruments shift out of place.

“Ugh, so annoying,” the man says, letting Audrey back down and reorganising his tools. “Nothing stays in place here, nothing. Go around a bend, everything’s ruined. Go over a bridge, everything’s ruined. God forbid the train hits a gopher hole.” He looks back to her. “I’m Dr. Walker, by the way. I fixed up your arm wound, and the one on your side. Antibiotics and everything.”

“Why?” Audrey manages to ask. She tries to move her legs, feels restraints digging into them. Her left arm, the same. Only her injured arm and everything above the shoulders is free. Audrey tries to push against the restraints, but the effort makes her dizzy, so she has to stop. Clearly she’s not going anywhere anytime soon. 

“Who knows? I don’t think Mr. Wilford wants you dead just yet. Of course, who tells me anything? Fix up this prisoner, or this guard, or this girl. No respect, no appreciation for anyone.”

 _What an odd person,_ Audrey thinks. She tries to move her injured arm and gasps in pain. “No painkillers, I’m afraid,” Dr. Walker says, not even turning away from his instruments. “Can’t have you going soft, says Mr. Wilford. Don’t know what that means. Not like anyone sees fit to enlighten me.”

“Shut up,” Audrey snaps at him.

“Obviously, I’ve just been left here to carry out Mr. Wilford’s orders like a common fucking assistant,” Dr. Walker continues, as if he hasn’t even heard her. “I have a PhD! Seven years ago, I was respected. Now I’m stuck on this hunk of junk doing Neanderthal medicine for an oversized raccoon.” Audrey does smirk at Wilford’s appellation by the doctor. “Treated like some run-of-the-mill intern. The last PhD in dermatology on the planet, but you wouldn’t know it from how I’m treated here.”

The tray with the instruments on it is close enough for Audrey to reach, even with her injured arm. One scalpel glints with potential. She could grab it, sink the blade into Dr. Walker’s thigh. Cut up the restraints around her legs, and - 

Dr. Walker must see her arm creeping off the table, because he drags the whole cart away from her. “Were you planning to take one of my scalpels? Make some grand escape? You have no way of knowing this, but there are cameras in here and guards outside.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

The doctor’s dark eyes fix on Audrey’s. “Sure.” Dr. Walker turns away from her, satisfied she can’t attempt escape again. As he organises the tools, he hums some desultory little tune. Audrey thinks she might have known it once, but she can no longer remember. As inappropriate as it is, the doctor awakens some long lost interest in her. What would she say about this man, if she met him before the Freeze in her office? _Idiosyncratic. Unappreciated. Neurotic._ For a brief moment, she feels bad for him. Despite being Third Class, she still lives in relative luxury. Audrey has her own room, her own space, the Nightcar, allies and friends who love her. She wants to cry again, just thinking about it. How lucky she is, compared to this squirrelly doctor. How lucky she would be, if she ever got to go home.

The door of the medical room opens, but Audrey can’t see who’s coming in. From the footsteps, only one person. Wilford comes into view, his massive coat blocking out the light. _Oversized raccoon,_ Dr. Walker’s voice whispers in her head. “Leave us,” says Wilford. More receding footsteps - the doctor leaving. Audrey wonders if she’ll see him again.

Wilford drags the chair over, sits down next to the table. “Audrey. We meet again. Have you thought at all on what we talked about?”

“Of course not.” This feels worse, being here and meeting Wilford like this. Audrey is flat on her back, held down everywhere. Wilford can do anything he wants, and from his expression, he definitely knows this.

“You know, I think I’ve been going about this all wrong,” Wilford purrs, his susurrant British accent lending him the air of a professor teaching a class. “I’ve been using such a primitive method, I’m sure you agree. It can’t be pleasant to be abused like this all the time.”

Audrey genuinely cannot tell if this man really believes everything he says, or is just psychologically fucking with her. Probably the second option. Or both.

“The beatings hurt, but with enough mental fortitude, you can endure them. They only affect you, after all. And I’ve seen enough of you, Audrey, to know you put your friends’ wellbeing far above your own. So as long as you’re the only one in danger, you’ll accept it.”

Who was this man before the Freeze? Audrey has met plenty of psychopathic businessmen before, but Wilford crosses the line into truly disturbed. He reaches into his coat - Audrey whimpers in anticipation of another weapon - but Wilford simply pulls out a stack of paper. “So imagine my surprise, Audrey, when I found a backdoor into Snowpiercer’s security system. Your engineers have safeguarded it well. But I found it.” Wilford flips through the stack, but keeps them angled away so Audrey can’t see. “They patched it up very quickly, of course. But I got some photos.”

Wilford takes the first sheet of paper, shows Audrey. _Layton._ Clearly captured in the Second Class meeting room, during one of his briefings. The picture is grainy, but it’s unmistakeable. “Who’s this man, hmm? He’s important to the train, isn’t he? I’m sure you’d want him kept safe.” Wilford’s voice is casual, as if he’s simply showing Audrey pictures from his latest vacation. “You think he’d forgive you if I captured him too?”

“Layton can defend himself against you,” Audrey snarls, injecting as much venom into her voice as possible.

“We’ll see,” says Wilford absently. “Oh, now this face I’d never forget. She pushed me off the train, can you believe that? Shoved me out the door and off the train went. After all I did for her. You never really know people until times of great stress, do you?” Wilford shows her the photo, one of Melanie and Allie in the subtrain. “Melanie’s your head engineer, of that I’m certain. It would be a very large blow to the train if she died…and her daughter too.” Wilford sighs. “Alexandra. I helped her, you know, after Melanie saw fit to abandon her on the platform. Seven years I raised that girl. Then she runs back to her traitor mother the first chance she gets.”

“‘Raised’ is a creative way to say ‘abused’,” Audrey scoffs. Shortly after Allie and Melanie reunited, the former visited the Nightcar, spilling all her Wilford secrets for Audrey to hear.

“So what. I may have some old-fashioned methods, I admit, but it was better than freezing by the tracks.”

“They’ll never go back to you, Wilford.”

Wilford shrugs. He pulls out another photo from his sheaf, flips it around to show her. Audrey’s heart drops; nausea rises in her throat. “Dear, sweet Zarah. I’m sure you wouldn’t want her harmed, would you?” Wilford appraises the photo again, shaking his head. “Oh, she’s pregnant. What a waste. Of course, if you just tell me the plans…”

_Not her, please, not her. Anyone else, just not Zarah!_

“Stay away from Zarah, you bastard,” Audrey forces out through gritted teeth. “Don’t touch her.”

Wilford’s eyes flash, like a predator catching sight of prey. “Oh, now she reacts. You care about her, don’t you?” He grabs her injured arm hard, yanks it up so Audrey can see. “Look at yourself. Look at how broken you are. And that’s just your arm. Imagine poor, defenceless Zarah, looking like you do, all over. Do you want that, Audrey?”

 _He’s just messing with you!_ screams a tiny little voice in the back of Audrey’s head. _The barricade is three cars long. Zarah’s safe in First Class with the rest of the innocents, where you left her. Wilford needs the plans to get past the barricade. Don’t fall for his lies._

Audrey shakes her head, eyes already burning. Wilford lets go of her arm, straightens his coat. Clearly satisfied his point has been made, he says, “I see you’re thinking about it. Mull it over. I’ll be back.” He puts away his photos, stands and walks out with not a backwards glance.

Audrey sees it, so vividly. Zarah chained up in this cold cell, abused by the guards, Tased, knifed, tortured, thoroughly broken. All for knowledge of plans that she doesn’t even have. All for Audrey’s recalcitrance. Audrey would be made to watch, of that she is certain. Her imagination is too much and she starts to cry, for the first time uncaring of the ubiquitous camera. The ceiling of the medical room blurs through her tears. So much for not telling Zarah anything. Why did Audrey even bother, if Zarah was still going to be made a target?

The little voice comes back, with more urgency. _Wilford has no way of getting to her! You’re a therapist, think this through. He’s grasping for leverage, and shitty leverage at that. Zarah is safe. Don’t give up the plans._ Audrey forces herself to breathe, forces herself to calm down. _Wilford wants you terrified, unable to think clearly. Terrified people are easy to manipulate. Don’t be like that. Don’t give him what he wants._

_Don’t give him what he wants._


	5. Melanie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel spends time away from Audrey.

Far from the chaos of before, the halls of Snowpiercer are quiet, things slowly going back to normal. Mel meets very few people as she makes her way home. The few passengers she does meet edge their way past without so much as a glance. Without the teal uniform, Mel is no longer someone to be feared, to be avoided in the hallways and spoken about behind closed doors. Now she is just a disheveled, dirty engineer, practically indistinguishable from a Third Class worker. Layton’s government had worked hard to remove the class designations - they were all an equal part of the train, and they all had a role to play. Even so, the appellations did not die easily. Mel categorised everyone in her head as she saw them: _Third Class, First Class, former Tail._ Old habits die hard, Mel supposes.

It is late at night. The further along the train she goes, the less people Mel sees. People who are on night shift are already at work. Those who worked the day shift are already at home. Mel exists between the shifts, in that strange time between day and night.

Mel palms open the door to the engine, the doors sliding aside with a whoosh. Javi and Alexandra are both inside at one of the desks, but Bennett is nowhere to be seen. Mel vaguely remembers him telling her he was going to stay down in the subtrain. _Gotta keep an eye on the crew down there._

“Hey,” Alexandra says, barely giving Mel a glance. She’s leaning over Javi’s shoulder, listening to him explain how to hack into a satellite. “And here, if I input this command…” Javi taps a few keys on the keyboard, “it reroutes the feed from its internal computer to the one on the train!” His voice fades away as Mel goes into the engineer’s cabin.

Alexandra had taken up the fourth bunk, a pink fuzzy blanket being the only frill. Mel still cannot fully relax around her daughter, cannot believe that she’s truly back. Their initial meeting had been tense, but now Alexandra treated Mel as if the past seven years had not happened. Mel is still apprehensive. Waiting for the day that she will snap, go back to treating her with disdain. _And you would deserve it,_ hisses the little voice in her head.

Mel changes out of the engineers’ uniform, hangs it up in the closet where the hospitality uniform used to be. It looks empty now, without the teal blazers and cream shirts and the heels lined up neatly on the floor inside. Someone else from Third Class had been made Hospitality in Mel’s absence. Somewhere in someone’s shipping container in Third was all the trappings of her past life. Did they think about where their new clothes came from? Did they consider its significance?

“I fixed the hull with Bennett,” Alexandra says as she cruises into the room, breaking Mel out of her reverie. “He said I’m really good. I could even do it all by myself if I wanted,” she says casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

“Will you?” Mel asks, trying to keep a straight face. The passengers would have a fit if they knew their ark was being worked on by a teenager. _A more than capable teenager,_ Mel thinks.

“Maybe. Bennett says there’s no rush.” Alexandra climbs up to the top bunk, the ladder rungs creaking under her weight. The ceiling of Mel’s bunk shakes as her daughter settles into bed. The train chugs along; under the light of the moon, Mel can see the remains of a city out there. There are no lights. Why does she expect to see them? Every other soul on Earth is certainly long dead. _That was before Wilford,_ the little voice says again. _You shouldn’t assume things anymore._

It is silent for a long time, and Mel thinks her daughter has gone to sleep, when she speaks again. “Mom,” Alexandra asks, “are you really worried about Audrey?”

Mel’s first instinct is to downplay it. Before the Freeze, she would have done so. _Don’t worry yourself about her, or me,_ she would have said. Even though seven years have passed, Alexandra still feels like the tiny nine-year-old Mel left on the platform. This gangly, short-haired teenager seems foreign to her. After recovering from Wilford’s treatment, Alexandra had filled out, her hair growing longer. Despite all that, Mel knew that the child she left on the platform was gone. _She’s not young anymore. Tell her the truth._

“Yeah.”

“Did she tell Wilford about the plans?”

“No. She’s hurt pretty bad.”

“Wilford doesn’t like it when people keep stuff from him.” Alexandra says this neutrally, with no hint of judgement, but it still strikes Mel to the core. _She’s able to say that because of what_ you _did!_ “I know what that’s like.”

Mel wants to apologise again, even though she knows a millennia of remorse will not be able to assuage her actions. Alexandra seems to have moved on already, and that hurts more than if she was still angry. _You don’t deserve her forgiveness, or her presence. You don’t even deserve to call yourself her mother!_

“You don’t have to apologise,” Alexandra says, before Mel can open her mouth to say anything. “I know you want to. Every time I mention him.”

Mel had talked about it at length with Audrey, burning with shame. _It’s natural, Melanie, to not want Alexandra to talk about him. I know it brings back memories you’d rather not remember. I know it makes you feel sadness, guilt, anger, all those things you don’t want to feel. But she can’t wipe away seven years of her life. She’s not intentionally trying to distress you, is she? As much as you really hate it, Wilford was a sizeable part of Alexandra’s life. You can’t stop her mentioning him._ Mel remembers this again, tries to internalise it as much as possible. Has Alexandra has had the same conversation with Audrey, but inversely? _My mother gets all weird whenever I bring up Wilford._ Alexandra has never told Mel what goes on with her and Audrey, and Mel has never asked. Perhaps their individual paths of healing were destined to be parallel, never touching.

“Alex - ”

“I’m just saying.” The bunk above shakes as Alexandra rolls over. “I’m not trying to throw shade at you or whatever.”

Throw shade? Where did she get that from? “‘Throw shade?’”

“Yeah. LJ told me.”

Mel wonders about the safety of her daughter spending time with a murderer. LJ didn’t do the deed herself, but the younger girl scared her, and still does. Mel remembers the photo incident - _her poor, dead daughter_ \- and the powerlessness and despair she felt at the thought she’d been bested by a teenager. Last time Mel saw LJ, though, she was in Third Class, wings clipped, having lost her First Class pedigree. Orphaned and homeless, forever traumatised. Completely harmless. Alexandra could look after herself, anyway. Mel considered the cruel irony of LJ’s situation: as she lost her parents, Mel got her daughter back. Such as it was.

“Audrey will be fine,” Alexandra says with conviction. “She will.”

“I hope so.”


	6. Audrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey's rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: violence, medical stuff

The door to the cell slams open, and Audrey’s heart jumps. The noise of the door hitting the wall fires through the room like a gunshot. She’s facing away, and she can’t see who it is.

“Take her off from there,” comes a snarl: Wilford. “I want to see her face.”

One of the guards - Audrey doesn’t recognise him - roughly undoes the rope tying her to the pipe. She barely has enough time to recognise that she’s free before the guard shoves her to the floor. 

Wilford’s not wearing his furry jacket anymore. He looks oddly bereft without it. “I’m sick of waiting for you,” he says without preamble. “I could be across the barricades by now, have Snowpiercer all to myself, but instead I have to waste time torturing it out of you.”

He takes a breath, calms down. Squats down next to Audrey, looks her over. “You’ll never give me the plans, will you? Are there even any plans, Audrey? Or were you just a red herring to distract me from my goal?”

Audrey almost laughs; Wilford’s giving the Snowpiercer denizens way too much credit. She imagines him mulling it over endlessly, fretting over his enemies outsmarting him. The plans did exist. The red herring idea sounds clever though, and she mildly regrets not suggesting it to Layton earlier. “I’m not giving you anything.”

Audrey expects Wilford to lose it then and there, but his expression doesn’t change. “Why does that not surprise me? Anyway, I don’t need you anymore. I have more people, more guns, more everything. What can your pampered First Class do to me?”

He’s right, as much as Audrey hates to admit it. This admittance hurts more than anything Wilford could do to her. By doing that, she has sealed her friends’ fates. “I’m not letting you go, of course. You’ve been a right annoyance, Audrey, but you’re also interesting to me. I think I’ll keep you around. It won’t be enjoyable for you though.” Wilford wipes his hands on his pants. “When you see what I’m going to do to you…everything I just did? That will be nothing.”

If he had shouted that it would have been less terrifying. At any rate, the conversation is closed. _This is a man who does not feel!_

“One last thing.”

Audrey notices too late the boots he’s wearing are steel-toed. They sparkle as they move through the air. An impact, then pain. It blossoms like fire in Audrey’s ribs, but it’s different, more present. What did she read in a book? Pain demands to be felt. Her vision whites out for a second; perhaps it’s a testament to his cruelty that Wilford only has to do it once. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he stalks to the door, the guards following in unspoken agreement. “Gather the others,” Wilford barks, this time addressing the guards. “We move out in twenty minutes.” As if to punctuate this last sentence, the door slams shut, the lock slamming home.

 _The others? There are more of them?_ Audrey quails before the realisation of what her friends will face - Knife-Guy and Taser-Guy, multiplied by ten, a hundred. 

Audrey is completely uncaring of her audience - the cameras, the guards, Wilford - and she cries, both for the pain and for her terror. 

* * *

Audrey runs out of energy for crying at some point. She lies there, her throat and eyes burning. All she can hear now is the train, quietly chugging along beneath her. Wilford and the guards never returned after they left. Audrey tries to tell herself they won’t succeed - _you never gave them the plans_ \- but Wilford looked angry enough to plow through the barricade regardless. All the Jackboots are gone. Snowpiercer will be defended by a bunch of Tailies. Gunless, and doomed. _I was stupid to think I could save them._ She doesn’t know what she is more scared of. Is it her friends’ certain fate? Or is it the thought of what Wilford’ll do to her when he comes back? Wilford’s last promise keeps repeating itself in her head. _When you see what I’m going to do to you…everything I just did? That will be nothing._ Audrey does know, however, that if Wilford makes it past the barricade, she will die here. Having knowledge of the plans was the extremely thin string her life hung on. When Wilford comes back, he will kill her. She’s heard stories of captives’ last moments, in wars, dictatorships, violent takeovers. Kidnapped, raped, mutilated. Audrey wants to believe Wilford won’t go that far. _He’s already proven he doesn’t care. Once you’re dead, you won’t feel the pain anymore._

Audrey tries not to panic. Panicking will just make her eventual end just that much worse. Would she would be lucky enough to go quickly? One shot in the head, and it would be over. Like a camera shutter clicking. But Audrey has been too much of a thorn in Wilford’s side to deserve such mercy. He will come back, and punish her with impunity.

The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off, and Audrey has to stay completely still or get a huge spike of pain from her ribs. She has very little knowledge of physiology, but it’s certainly cracked. She would cry from the pain, but she’s run out of tears. When clients told her of this same dried-out feeling, Audrey didn’t understand. Now she knows. She feels the pain, the despair, but the release won’t come. Breathing shallowly so as not to aggravate her injuries, Audrey thinks of her options. She could beg, debase herself. Wilford might be induced to take it easy on her, accepting her humiliation as punishment enough. Her stomach turns at that possibility, but what choice would she have? But would living really be preferable to death? On this grey, cold supply train? Being Wilford’s plaything for a few years before he got bored? Or before the train derailed, whichever came first. Audrey’s impression of Wilford from Melanie made her think that keeping the train running properly was not his biggest priority. If all her friends were dead, Audrey supposes she should just hope to join them.

Audrey hears a muted boom from somewhere outside the cell. She doesn’t register it. Probably the train hitting something. _God forbid this train hits a gopher hole,_ Dr Walker’s voice whispers. Why is he always showing up in her mind? Silence falls again, and Audrey lapses back into a haze. She refuses to think of her friends. Doing that will just heighten her distress. _There’s nothing you can do for them anyway._ She tries to blank her mind, visualising a foggy grey space. Audrey imagines it going on forever, everything disappearing into the ether. Retreating further into the recesses of her mind, she doesn’t hear the second boom, much closer at hand.

Until the door slams back open again, hitting the opposite wall and bouncing off. _Wilford was that quick?_ Audrey tries to rouse her sluggish mind enough to get ready for his abuse, but it does not come. Instead of Wilford’s booted tread, there’s the soft footsteps of someone else.

Audrey’s vision swims, so much that the face above her is too blurred to see clearly. “Audrey,” comes the voice of the mysterious newcomer. This voice is not new. She has heard it before every show, every time she has entered the Nightcar. She would never forget this voice.

“Clay?” He doesn’t have his signature lipstick or fishnet singlet, but she could recognise him anywhere. “It’s you? Here? Now?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Clay says, cutting away the restraints on her legs and arms. Her extremities burn as the feeling comes back to them. “We’re rescuing you. Come on, we’re going home.”

Audrey can’t find the words to express all the questions jangling around in her head. _Where’s Wilford? Is everyone safe? Did he make it past the barricade? Is this a trick?_

Clay clearly expects her to walk, but Audrey knows she hasn’t the strength for it. “You gotta carry me,” she manages to say. “Can’t walk.” He scoops her up roughly, clearly ignorant of her injuries. Audrey’s ribs protest; her chest explodes in pain and she cries out. Clay nearly drops her in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Ribs…one of them. Broken.”

Even through her darkening vision, Audrey can see Clay’s guilty expression. He looks close to tears. _Why? He wasn’t the one who hurt me._ He holds her a little more carefully, starts moving out. Out of the cell, into the hallway. Audrey watches her surroundings through half-closed eyes, seeing it but not really processing it. The dank grey hallways of Big Alice. Red siren lights, luridly flashing. The ceiling moving along, Clay’s rough breathing. The huge circular entrance to Snowpiercer. Home stretch. People crowding around them both. No more siren lights. Layton’s face hovers over hers, full of concern. He yells something to the assembled crowd. Audrey can’t understand him. Everything sounds like it is coming from very far away. Audrey leaves Clay’s arms, is lain on something flat. Voices, many of them, melding together into one large monolith. Audrey doesn’t have the energy to pick them out individually. The noise washes over her like waves, ushers her into unconsciousness.

_Clay are there any others Clay Clay please she’s injured badly she needs help someone call Dr Pelton one of her ribs is broken I don’t know how bad it is she’s unresponsive she must be unconscious clear a path should we take her in the subtrain how far is the medical car it’s six hundred cars away alright let’s just go come on come on shit look at the blood we gotta run is she still breathing yes so we’ve got time come on please just hold on until we get there it’s not that much further what if she doesn’t survive shut up we’re not talking like that just keep going just keep going we can make it_


End file.
